The Last Horizon

Chapter 9

Fluture was truly the city of lights on Nexus; beautiful, overpowering, and restless, I could almost feel the pulse of the city as I watched the sidewalks swarming with people prowling through the lights in the nightly hunt for the next thrill in their lives in the concrete jungle.

The boulevard was lined with clubs, casinos, and luxury highrises that towered over the mass of activity. Brightly decorated banners with tiny blue and white lights were strung overhead and declared this year as “The Year of the Butterfly”. Scotty was right, the migration of the Didius was an event not to be missed in Fluture.

The neon lights of the main drag flashed in a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors as I cruised along with stretch-limousines, taxi cabs, and flashy status symbols of the ultra-rich. This was the city where fortunes were made and lost in seconds, and lives hinged on fate and luck.

The casino I was looking for was just up ahead--The Orchid was the largest and most lavish structure there; it was the diamond of Fluture nightlife. There were huge fountains with waterfalls in the center of the porte cochère where guests pulled up and were greeted by smartly dressed valets constantly hustling to park their cars or open the doors of the limos to usher in the highrollers and celebrities.

This was the place where the rich and famous came to be seen, adored, and envied. The Orchid was where money worshipped the face of youth with extravagance and excess.

I pulled in on the Cyclone and idled in front of the main entrance when a valet in a red jacket jogged up to me. “Excuse me sir, you’ll have to park over there.” He pointed to a gated area where about forty motorcycles were grouped for the evening. “I can take your personal items and helmet after you find a spot.” He smiled warmly.

I nodded silently at the valet and gunned the Cat to the designated space and shut it off. I opened the small storage compartment behind the seat and grabbed my silver clutch bag and headed toward the lobby.

My bomber jacket was zipped up, and I was wearing the HUD helmet with a reflective face shield that came with the Cyclone along with black leather pants, gloves, and cowboy boots.

I walked up to the podium to the left of the grand entryway where the valets gathered and tracked guest keys and personal belongings. The one that greeted me smiled as he approached. I removed the helmet and shook my hair loose so that it fell to my shoulders. He looked at me with surprised embarrassment when he realized I was female.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry I called you sir!” He blushed.

“No worries.” I handed him my helmet and gloves. “Do you mind?” I asked as I reached over and positioned his arms higher so that I could see my reflection on the helmet visor. I opened my clutch, pulled out my lipstick, and leaned forward to reapply it. When I finished, I put it back and patted the valet on his blushing cheek. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” I smiled, “take good care of my stuff, okay?”

“Yes ma’am!” He bowed.

A red carpet led through the entrance to the lobby, and once inside, I was awed by three crystal chandeliers that spiraled from the cathedral ceilings and centered over a huge, blue orchid that was designed into the white terrazzo floor. The orchid itself was a marvel to look at; it was at least thirty feet in diameter, and the petals and sepals were composed of five different shades of blue. It was a breathtaking centerpiece.

The blue and white marble walls were complimented by thousands of silver and white butterfly ornaments that cascaded from the ceiling between the split staircases that curved up to the mezzanine.

Flower arrangements made of the different species of orchids that grew in Fluture were everywhere, and visitors and guests milled around and mingled as servers circulated with bottles of campaign and silver platters of carefully arranged hors d'oeuvres. This place was gorgeous and aimed to overindulge Fluture’s power players with its luxurious atmosphere.

I wove casually through the groups of people until I spotted a crowd gathered at the main entrance of a nite club called the Electric Gypsy. There were a couple of huge doormen in black suits that stood in front pointing at certain patrons and waved them in past the velvet ropes when I edged forward to take a closer look.

“You, you, and you, may come in.” One of them bellowed as he unhitched a chain that symbolically divided people by their appearance.

“Aw come on!” A man in his early thirties whined. “What’s it going to take to gain admission? Is it money you want? Credits?”

A bouncer glared at him. “It’s not about money, it’s about the energy. Only people with the groove get in.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The man demanded in an incensed tone.

“Those who know don’t tell, those who tell don’t know. If you have to ask, then you don’t need to know.” The bouncer stepped forward and pushed him back into the crowd. “You and you,” he gestured at two girls standing in front of me, “may enter.”

They looked at each other and squealed in delight as they clapped their hands and went down the stairs that led to the underground club.

The bouncer looked at me and a blonde girl wearing a short white cocktail dress standing to my right, “You and you,” he pointed, “may enter.” He said gruffly as he unhitched the chain and ushered us toward the brightly lit stairwell where another man stood at the bottom in front of a second entrance.

I could hear the beat of techno-trance pounding through the heavy doors and the cheering of hundreds of voices.

“Welcome to the Electric Gypsy.” The doorman nodded as he let us into a vast, darkened ballroom. The party was packed and in full swing. The center of the room had an elevated circular platform that was twenty feet in diameter, where the DJ and technicians controlled everything that created the hypnotic atmosphere of flashing lights and lasers.

I started moving my shoulders instinctively to the seductive beat of the bass drum and synthesizers as I melted into the mob. I was automatically drawn to the platform, and people rubbed against me as I danced through the bodies moving rhythmically with the beat.

The DJ wore a red and white striped stovepipe hat and a head-mic, and he moved over a large console flipping switches to create electronic sounds that kept the music going. His face and body were chalk-white, and red theatrical make-up was applied in a wild design on his face that accented his mouth and eyes and made him look like an evil clown.

His falsetto voice reverberated with the synthesizers and bass beat as he sang the club’s theme song:

Ten thousand light years I've roamed the skies I’ve touched the rainbow and it feels like ice

I move so fast, never touch the ground

I live my life at the speed of sound…

…the crowd danced wildly to the anthem and pumped their fists in the air as they sang along at the top of their lungs…

Techno-Gypsy, Electric Gypsy The night is young, Gypsy, Oh Electric Gypsy All night long

…the laser lights pulsed red and blue rays from the platform as the silhouettes of clubbers waved glow sticks, squirted water bottles, and jumped up and down in unison…screaming…

I won't come down so don't make me try

My sonic dream is never gonna die I’ll take my chances on chrome and steel Live fast die young is how I feel…

Techno-Gypsy, Electric Gypsy The night is young, Gypsy, Oh, Electric Gypsy All night long

The DJ came down from the platform and started dancing with a group of girls. He was wearing tight red vinyl pants and undulated with the music as the girls ran their hands over his pale shirtless body.

The girl I came in with shrieked, “OH HERRON, YOU’RE GOD! I LOVE YOU!” And the DJ spun several times and floated to where we were dancing.

“Trance is energy, baby.” He purred. “Are you here with anyone?”

She shook her head and beamed.

“Perfect!” He smiled widely. “Give yourself to me tonight.”

He took her hand and led her to the platform. The group of girls he danced with clawed at him for attention, but a couple of bouncers stepped in and yanked them away. The DJ had made his choice and brought the girl to the stage and started manipulating the console again as she stood star-struck and watched her idol in fascination.

Even through the chaos of strobe lights, and the echo of electronic voices inducing the frenzy of sweat and hypnotic lust, I saw the DJ hand the girl a small vile and encourage her to inhale its contents while she danced seductively to the music. Crunch dust.

The ceiling burst with blinding white light and flickered back to darkness as the techno-trance engulfed the crowd and electrified the air. Someone handed me a bottle of water and motioned for me to drink it. I handed it back and moved through the mass of howling people indulging themselves in the scene as a giant blue butterfly appeared and floated gracefully over the horde of clubbers.

I made my way to the side of the dance floor and looked for an empty seat at the tables that were set up for spectators on a raised floor. I moved through the mingling people watching the bash when I spotted a small, empty table by the handrail that bordered the floor perimeter. I sat down and exhaled and watched the butterfly glide over the party.

“It’s a great scene isn’t it?” A man with long dark hair wearing a vest and dark glasses sat down and edged up next to me.

“Yes it is.”

“I’m Roscoe Brown, the ladies call me RB.” He said smoothly as he dropped his voice an octave.

I recognized the approach. “I’m not really looking for any company, handsome.” I said politely.

“Hey, you need to get hooked up? I can get you anything. You need some crunch? Psycho-dots? How about some Afterburner?”

“No thanks, I’m not into getting chemically motivated to do something stupid.” I frowned as I turned my attention back to the dance floor.

“How about me then?” He grinned.

“Huh?”

“Want to session?” He stood up and rubbed the bulge in his crotch. “I can promise you a night you’ll never forget.”

I rolled my eyes in disgust. “I’ve seen bigger balls on a kitten. Do yourself a favor and give those steamed clams the night off, handsome.”

“You keep calling me handsome, so there’s obviously something about me you like.”

“I call you handsome because you’re going home alone tonight and going to be using your hand-some.”

Roscoe laughed and put his hand on my lap as he sat back down. “I bet you like it rough, am I right?” He squeezed my thigh and ran it a little higher. “I bet you can get real nasty with the right man.” He winked.

I laughed along with him as I reached down, grabbed his hand, and set it flat on the table. “Oh Roscoe,” I smiled as I reached over and removed his sunglasses and put them on, “you definitely have a way about you, and you’re right, I can get real nasty.”

He smiled confidently and tilted his head sideways and eyed my breasts.

“I tell you what,” I said with a softer voice as I lightly stroked the wrist of his hand on the table, “I’m going to get you something to drink…” I leaned in and slipped my other hand into his vest without him noticing and removed the stiletto he had stashed in the right pocket.

“…while you sit here and try to figure out…” I held the knife up in front of his face, flicked the switch that snapped the blade out, and watched his eyes widened as I drove it hard through the top of his hand and pegged it to the table, “…how this evening could have turned out better for you.”

“SON-OF-A-BITCH! GET THIS OFF OF ME!” He screamed as he stared in shock at his impaled hand.

“Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” I got up and went to the bar.

Summer sat in a corner booth and watched Roscoe whimpering as the girl with the leather jacket stood up and calmly walked away. A crowd was gathering around him as he cringed and yelled for help.

She got up to see what the commotion was all about; when she got to Roscoe’s table, she saw a growing pool of blood and a stiletto knife jammed through the top of his hand.

“Don’t just stand there you idiots, get some help!” Roscoe screamed. “Summer! You little whore! Get me some help, damn it!” He demanded as he looked helplessly at his injury and pounded his fist on the tabletop in agony.

Summer had a hard time concealing her smile. “Having a bad night, Roscoe?” She reached down and wiggled the handle of the knife.

“YAAAAH! DON’T TOUCH IT! DON’T TOUCH IT!” He cried hysterically.

“Excuse me. Pardon me. I’m sorry, I just need to get through for a second.” Nikki nudged her way politely through the crowd standing around Roscoe’s table. She had a pitcher of beer.

“Hi honey, I brought you something to drink.” Nikki poured the beer on Roscoe’s head, set the pitcher next to his bleeding hand, then punched him in the face with a straight left jab that knocked him out cold. His body slumped forward and his face hit the table hard. The crowd gasped and parted as Nikki turned around and walked to the restroom wearing Roscoe’s sunglasses.

Summer watched her walk away coolly and admired her confidence. She looked at the mess that was Roscoe and decided to follow her. When she got to the ladies room, she saw Nikki washing blood off her hands in the clam-shaped sink.

Summer smiled coyly and nodded as they made eye contact, and took the spot next to Nikki and pretended to fix her hair. It took a few seconds to work up the courage to say something, and she tried not to be distracted by the bloody water spinning down the drain as she watched Nikki scrub her hands clean.

She side-eyed Nikki in the mirror. “That guy you hammered back there…do you know who he is?”

“He said his name was Roscoe.” Nikki shrugged as she reached for a towel.

“Roscoe Brown is one of the biggest drug dealers in south Fluture.” Summer said dryly. “A real balloon knot that walks around here like the world owes him a living.”

“He struck me as a pathetic turd-slurper.”

“He is.”

The girls burst out laughing as they looked at their reflections in the mirror. Summer put her hand over her mouth and blushed as she shook her head.

“I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Yeah, well, I have my moments.”

“I’m Summer.” She held out her hand and smiled.

“Nikki.” She shook Summer’s hand. “Is the Gypsy open every night?”

“It closes for three days every month for maintenance. Are you new to Fluture?”

“Just passing through.” Nikki looked at Summer. “Lovely dress.”

“Thank you. Where are you from?”

“Earth.”

“I’ve heard of your planet, you’re a long way from home.”

“I sure am. I’m here on business. Now I’m here to take in the nightlife. Are you from Nexus?”

“Yes, I’m originally from Southern Icarus, but I live here in Fluture.”

“You’re a long way from home too. So what do you do?”

“I work here at the casino. How about you?”

“I’m a pilot.”

“Really? You must see a lot of places. What company do you work for?”

“I’m on commission. I own my ship.”

“Wow Nikki, if you don’t mind my saying so, you are by far the most interesting girl I’ve ever met. You sound like you have an exciting life, and what you did to Roscoe out there was epic.”

“Like I said, I have my moments.” Nikki grinned.

“Do you want to hang out? May be get something to eat?”

“Sounds good. I’m famished.” Nikki threw Roscoe’s glasses in the trash bin as they stepped back out to the party.

They were met by two hulking men in black uniforms--members of The Orchid’s security team. Roscoe stood between them cradling his wrapped up hand. “That’s her!” He scowled as he pointed at Nikki.

The security guards looked at each other, then at Nikki, “Young lady,” one of them said calmly, “this man claims you assaulted him with a knife. Do you know him?”

“I beg your pardon?” Nikki feigned a look of confusion. “I’ve never seen this gentleman before. What happened?” She asked innocently.

“She’s lying!” Roscoe barked. “You little bi…”

“She’s with me.” Summer intervened as she looked the security man square in the eyes. “She’s an old friend of mine.”

“She’s lying too!” Roscoe spit venomously. His shirt was soaked with blood and his right eye was black.

The security guards glared at Roscoe then looked at Summer. “Mr. Charon’s been wondering where you’ve been.”

“I’m sorry, I lost track of time when I ran into Nikki. We haven’t seen each other in years.” Summer said apologetically as she hooked her left arm around Nikki’s right. “Can you tell Charon I’ll be up in a few minutes?”

“You’ve got ten minutes.” The man said firmly. “Then you get your ass up there to join Charon for dinner. Don’t make me come looking for you.”

“Hey wait a minute,” Roscoe contested, “what about her?” He pointed at Nikki.

“Nikki’s been hanging with me all night,” Summer piped as she looked at the security guards, “I have no idea what Roscoe’s babbling about. He’s probably drunk and hitting the crunch again. Look at him, he even spilled his drink all over himself.”

The security guard slapped Roscoe on the side of the head. “Shut up, yhamo,” the guard grunted in disgust, “I catch you in here with a knife again, I’m going to stick it up your ass. You hear me?” The guards turned and half dragged Roscoe away. “Now go put on your big boy pants and go upstairs and have a med-tech look at your hand.”

Summer looked at Nikki. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Thanks for the cover story, Summer.”

“May be I’ll see you around.”

Nikki watched Summer disappear into the crowd. She couldn’t help but feel that the girl did her a big favor by standing up for her in front of the guards.

She sensed a certain sadness in Summer’s eyes. Even though the girl was wearing a gown that probably cost thousands of dollars, there was an air of desperation about her. Especially when the guard told her she was late for some sort of dinner date.

It was getting late and Nikki decided to get back to Cybelle and get some rest. She had taken in enough action for the night and didn’t want to push her luck.

As she made her way through the mob and passed by the platform, she saw the DJ still spinning his magic and strutting around, but the girl she had come in with was gone.

The next morning, Scott took a taxi to the business district of downtown Fluture from his hotel and left the SS-2 in the parking garage where the valet put it the night before. He got out and walked three blocks where he hailed another cab that took him to a mall. Scott walked around and settled into a crowded café where he ordered lunch and waited as he read his SCaT Pad.

Ten minutes later, a man in a tan jacket sat at the table next to him and ordered a cup of coffee. They never made eye contact or acknowledged each other’s existence. The man read his newspaper as he casually sipped his beverage and regarded bypassers. When he was done, he folded his paper, stood up, and dropped it on Scott’s table as he walked away without looking back.

Scott unfolded the paper to a set of car keys. There was also a hastily written address and a license plate number for a blue sedan. He got up, paid for his meal, and headed for the parking lot.

It took him a few minutes to find the car, but once he did, he was pleased by the banality of the vehicle. It was the type of car that had no character and anyone seen driving it would never raise suspicion. He got in and drove south for a half hour until he arrived to an industrial area on the edge of Fluture.

Scott made a right onto a desolate main street that ran between a series of buildings. He slowed down and leaned forward, hunting for the address as the afternoon shadows stretched across the potholed street and loose papers caught in a breeze blew across with wafts of dust.

The area was packed with abandoned warehouses and factories. Some of the street numbers were clearly visible on the structures, but most of the buildings weren’t marked. Scott turned on his GPS and punched in the address as he cruised down the road. He spotted the building at the same time the GPS located it on a satellite map and started blinking. The structure was a dingy warehouse with broken windows, and the exterior walls were covered with graffiti.

Scott saw three cars parked in the alley next to it. He pulled in behind them, got out slowly, and walked to the front of the building. A door opened and two men stepped outside of the structure and looked at him suspiciously.

One had a thick mustache and wore a black tank top and jeans. His arms were sleeved with tattoos that ran up to his neck, and judging from the designs, he got them in prison. The other was heavyset and wore a gray jogging suit. He was adorned with thick gold chain necklaces and an obnoxious wrist watch that must have weighed two pounds.

“There something we can help you with, yhamo?” The one with a mustache asked with a low, threatening tone.

“Perhaps. I’m here to see Lazarus.”

“Wass your name, yhamo?”

“Scott.”

The two men looked at each other and nodded. The heavy one went inside the building while the other stood outside with Scott and glared at him.

A few seconds later, the heavy one poked his head out of the door and waved him in. The building was empty and cavernous. It was dim, dusty, and the lights glowed dully overhead as Scott followed the heavyset man inside while the tattooed one walked next to him.

There was a long table set up against the east wall with two black cases and a duffle bag on top. Scott noticed there were two other men holding automatic weapons standing at the end of a dark hallway watching him as he crossed the floor.

“Wait here.” The heavy one ordered as he held up his hand. The one with the mustache stood next to him with his arms crossed.

A voice came out of the darkness. “So you’re him. The one they call Scott.”

Scott stood silently as he looked in the direction of the two armed men where the voice came from. A man wearing a dark gray suit stepped forward, walked over to the long table, and stood in the shadows.

“Come closer.” He said calmly. “I think you’ll find everything to your satisfaction.”

“I trust that my employers have compensated you financially?” Scott asked as he approached the table.

“They have. Procurement of these items was difficult.”

“Lazarus?”

“I am.” The man leaned forward and stepped out of the gloom. His face was covered with scars and pitted heavily. His nose was also missing.

“Go ahead. Take a look.” He pointed at the items on the table.

Scott opened the longer flat case and surveyed nine parts of various shapes and sizes that were held tightly in place by foam cushioning. He ran his fingertips lightly over the pieces that were matted in flat black, and could tell that they were products of precision tooling and engineering.

“May I?” Scott placed his hand on one of the components and pulled it out of the case.

“Try not to soil yourself.” Lazarus chuckled.

It took less than a minute. Scott quickly picked the parts out one at a time and expertly began assembly as the others looked on. He snapped, tightened, and twisted the components and marveled at their fit as they began to take on the shape of a weapon. The others watched quietly as he scrutinized the last piece and slapped it into the receiver.

Scott grinned as he examined the fully assembled Trinity M341 SWS Rifle with flash and sound suppressor; the rifle’s overall length was only thirty-two inches. Thirty-two inches of high-powered velocity capable of delivering death with surgical precision. He snapped the bolt back to check the action, then peered down the scope that had an anti-glare, infrared lens. The barrel was fourteen inches long with a vented heat shield. He held the weapon up and checked it’s weight and balance. This thing was a demon. “I am become death.” Scott thought to himself.

“You have six rounds.” Lazarus said coldly. “Two armor-piercing hollow points, and four explosive--as you requested. I also got you the Kirsten Automatic Pistol with four-thirty round clips, and four Pyrogen fragmentation grenades.” Lazarus slid the smaller case to Scott.

Scott disassembled the rifle and carefully put the parts back into the case. He reached for the Kirsten Auto and flicked the selector switch as he wrapped his fingers around the grip and pulled back the magazine catch spring and let it slap back into position.

“And last, but not least,” Lazarus picked up a small duffle bag and set it in front of Scott. “there’s six ounces of Black Swan with a transmitter and three detonation receiver rings wrapped in the ghillie suit along with the frags, a range finder, and an area map of Sertina’s Pass.”

Scott set the Kirsten Auto on the table, unzipped the bag, and unrolled the ghillie suit to inspect the items. “Excellent.” He said dryly as he set the Kirsten and spare clips next to the range finder and detonation rings, rolled everything back up, and stuffed them back into the duffle. “Thank you, Lazarus. You are a great asset to this process.”

“So, you never saw me, you don’t know my name, and this meeting and conversation never took place. Understood?”

“Goes without saying.”

Lazarus turned to his men. “Let’s go.” They surrounded him as they filed through the corridor. Lazarus paused, turned around, and looked at Scott. “Whatever it is you’re here to do,” Lazarus said grimly as one of his bodyguards stood next to him and stared coldly at Scott, “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing it in the headlines.”

Scott nodded stoically at him and they disappeared into the darkness. He watched them get into their cars and drive down the street where they took a left and vanished from sight. He sighed as he grabbed the case and shouldered the duffle bag; he had a few more things to do in the city, then had to go back to Cybelle to tie up a couple of loose ends.

I adjusted my fedora as I walked around the Zephyr and assessed the overall damage to my ship. Doolie had already set up a work station and the larger RAM panels that sustained the most damage had been stripped off and stacked neatly on a forklift.

There was a six-man crew of mechanics and technicians working on different parts of the ship; one of them was on a lift clamping off the control surface on the vertical rudder that was torn to shreds, and the others were either working on damaged wiring or replacing minor components on the Zephyr.

A couple of welding drones were in the process of reworking the omni-strut panel mounts that got torqued from the attack, and Doolie was doing the final testing and inspections on the quality of the work.

“Well good morning Nikki.” Doolie removed his face shield and ducked under one of the ventral fins.

“I can’t believe how fast you guys move on getting things done.”

“We started last night after you left for the city.”

“You mean you haven’t slept yet?”

“Nope, we have direct orders from the man himself to do whatever it takes to get your ship repaired.”

“Do you have all the parts you need to make the Zephyr space worthy?”

“I believe so. We still have to replace some sensors before putting on the new panels, but I’m happy with what we’ve accomplished so far. Some of the fiber optics got cooked, but it’s no big deal, the techs are re-pulling them.”

“Thanks Doolie, I appreciate how hard you and your crew have been working.”

“No problem. It’s what we do. I took a look at the major systems and avionic controls and everything checks out. That rudder is beat to shit though.”

“It sure is.” I stepped back to let one of the drones roll by.

“The subsystems in this baby are in excellent shape. I see you’ve got a lot of aftermarket parts and systems in your ship.”

“I’ve had quite a bit of work done, and I did a lot of the system bashing myself.”

“Nice.” Doolie nodded admiringly. “I don’t see magnetic hyper-drive cores very often, yet alone get the chance to work on them, so this is a nice break in routine.”

“Is this going to cause problems?”

“Nothing we can’t handle. We’ll even replace the ceramic detonation ring on the docking collar.” Doolie cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

“Pirates tried to hijack us just outside of Tal-Seti. It got nasty and we got into it pretty bad with them.”

“They still out there?”

“No, we managed to take care of them.”

Doolie rubbed his chin and squinted. “You know, Jase has been down here three times to see how the repairs are going. He’s rarely at port for anything, but he wants your vessel operational as soon as possible.”

“Can’t wait to get rid of me already?”

“No, nothing like that young lady. I’m assuming he and Mr. Charon are pleased with the quality of the merchandise and your ability to make the schedule. From the way Jase talks, looks like I’ll be seeing more of you around here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think after two or three more runs Mr. Charon may bring you in full time.”

“Full time? Oh no, no, no!” I shook my head. “There’s got to be some sort of miscommunication between your boss and mine, this was a one-time deal.”

Doolie chuckled. “Nikki, you stand to make a lot of money bringing in more Beta-ephedrine.”

I tried not to act surprised by what Doolie just said, so just I stood there quietly and listened.

“That batch you delivered was serious Grade-5 Beta-E.” Doolie whistled. “One hundred percent pure. The guys at the lab are still talking about it.”

“They are, huh?”

I wondered what this beta stuff was used for. My mind drifted…damn it, Kurlie lied to me. I told him no drugs! I didn’t want to ask Doolie what this stuff was since he assumed I knew what he was talking about.

“Absolutely. Jase was thinking about bringing you in every three to four months depending on the demand, so it looks like we’ll be servicing your ship every time you make a drop.”

“I wasn’t planning on making any more trips to Nexus after this one, Doolie.”

“That’s between you and the man.”

“Is there a way you can arrange for me to talk to this Charon?”

“That’s above my pay grade. You’ll have to take that up with Jase. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, you can use the Cyclone every time you come to Nexus.”

“I’m going to have to think about this.” I muttered.

“You wanna take a look around?”

“Am I allowed to?”

“I don’t see why not. You’re the one risking your ass getting it here. Let me give you a quick tour of the joint.”

“Sure why not?” I thought this might be a good opportunity to gain some insight on what Doolie was talking about.

Cybelle was a huge mining colony but apparently it was used as a front for purposes other than mining. We hopped into an FAV and went to the warehouse that the cargo was brought to. The containers were empty now, and the cosmetics were still being palletized, but the beta-ephedrine was gone.

Whatever I brought to Nexus seemed to be a big deal and was part of a larger process. That would explain why everyone moved so fast when it came to the offloading, inventory, and distribution of the payload.

I’m going to have a sit down with Kurlie when I get back home and find out what he got me into. I was under the impression that he made some promises to people here that involved me, and my plans on throwing in the towel were about to be altered.

“So where did the Beta-E go?” I asked.

“The labs on the west side of the facility. I’m afraid I can’t take you there.”

It was about noon when we got back to the hanger where the Zephyr was moored. To my surprise, Scotty had shown up and was looking around and watching the mechanics at work.

“Scotty!” I beamed as I hugged him.

“Hi Nikki.” Scott smiled. “How’s everything going here? Is everything all right? Are we still on schedule?”

“Yes.” I said as I gestured at the Zephyr. “This is Doolie,” I said formally, “he’s the lead mechanic repairing my ship and the manager of this facility. Doolie, this is Scotty, my copilot.”

“Nice to meet ’cha Scotty.” Doolie shook Scott’s hand. “Well, if you two will excuse me, I have to get back to work.”

“Thanks for the tour, Doolie.”

“My pleasure, Nikki.”

“Scotty, what brings you back here?”

“I need a favor from you.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I’ve got some personal things I'd like you to hang on to until we meet up again.” Scotty reached into his backpack and handed me his SCaT Pad and a small key. “I don’t want to lose them in the city.”

“Okay. Do you have time for lunch?”

“There somewhere around here to eat?”

“There’s a restaurant at the complex I’m staying at. Can you give me a lift?”

“The car’s parked just outside.”

As we walked out of the facility, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched as we approached the SS-2.

“What’s on your mind, Nikki?”

“We need to talk.”

“This sounds serious.”

“It is. I just found out about something that I don’t like.”

“If that’s the case, don’t talk about it in the car. Wait until we get to the restaurant.”

“You think the Avarno’s bugged?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you suspect something.”

“I suspect everything. There’s no honor among people in this business. We’ll talk about it over a decent meal.”

We were seated in a corner booth by the hostess, and the moment she left, Scotty moved us to a table outside on the covered patio.

Scotty looked around and leaned back in his chair. “This is much better.” He sighed as he looked at the sky and grinned. “So what’s going on? How was your first night, did you get some rest or go to Fluture?”

“I went to the city. I was out pretty late last night. I see what you mean about these thirty-six hour days.” I browsed through a menu for an entrée.

“Did you find a decent dance club?”

The waiter came and took our orders. “I went to a club at The Orchid.”

“The Orchid is the swankiest casino in the city. I’m staying at the La Rouge Hotel there.”

“Scotty, how well do you know Kurlie? I know I’m not supposed to ask, but I really need to know; do you work for him?”

“No, I don’t work for Montrell any more than you do, he’s just an acquaintance. Why?”

“Have you ever heard of Beta-ephedrine?”

“Yes I have, what about it?”

“Kurlie told me I was just delivering some high-dollar cosmetics and other luxury commodities. I should have known better than to believe him. Apparently there was a large amount of beta-ephedrine hidden in the cargo. Do you know what it is?”

The waiter brought our order and I sat quietly until he left our table. Scotty eyed the server and waited until he was gone. He leaned closer to me and lowered his voice.

“Beta-E is the key ingredient in Crunch Dust. It’s what gives the user that euphoric feeling and light-headed sensation when they take the narcotic.” Scotty stated dryly. “The beta-blocker in the chemical acts as an opiate and also magnifies the effects of the ephedrine. How did you find out you were carrying this?”

“That mechanic I introduced to you, Doolie. He thought I knew it was part of the cargo and was my primary reason for coming to Nexus. He inadvertently started talking about it.”

“So Kurlie set you up to smuggle a chemical used to manufacture a narcotic. What do you want to do?”

“Not much I can do but play along for now. Besides, I need to make sure the Zephyr gets fixed the way I want it. I want departure as soon as possible.”

“How soon can they have your ship repaired?”

“Doolie thinks he can have her ready in the next two days. There’s a chance we may be able to get out of here by the 28.”

“What are you going to do about Kurlie when we get back to Earth?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ll figure that out when we get back.”

“Okay, Nikki, I’ll try to get things wrapped up here in the next day or so. Until then,” Scotty nodded, “you stay alert and be careful. Here’s my room and phone number at the hotel,” He took out a pen, wrote it down on a piece of paper, and slid it to me, “call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” I exhaled as I put his number in my jacket.

Scotty leaned back into his chair, “All of a sudden things are moving fast,” he said thoughtfully, “Montrell’s connected to someone big in Fluture.”

“Yeah, someone named Charon. This was supposed to be my last run, but it seems that people here are expecting me to bring more Beta-E.” I frowned. “I have a feeling Kurlie’s going to lean on me about deliveries to Nexus.”

“The way I see it, Montrell roped you into circumstances that will end badly. If you don’t make the runs, your ass is in a sling for knowing too much about their operation.” Scotty paused.

“If you continue to work through this, I think you’ll eventually end up in the reeds for the same reason.” He said grimly as he folded his hands on the table. “You’re an expendable asset standing in a puddle of shit, Nikki, and you haven’t got the right shoes for it.”

“The future doesn’t sound too promising, does it?”

“These things don’t just work themselves out.”

“I know. Can you give me a ride back to the Zephyr? I need to pick up my ride and bring it back here, I’m going back to Fluture tonight.